Читать книгу Dawn Study - Maria Snyder V. - Страница 11

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4

YELENA

After Valek left, I paced from the door to the kitchen and back again. The Mosquito was smart and well aware of Fisk’s network. There was no way he’d let them find him unless he wanted them to. He probably had an ambush set up for Valek. At least a null shield no longer trapped him, but he was vulnerable to other magic. An intelligent magician would be able to adapt once he or she realized the shield didn’t work.

I really wanted to get some fresh air, but I was trying to be sensible. There was no reason for me to go out. Turning around, I almost walked into Hilly. She blocked my path to the kitchen.

“Lovely Yelena, there are two runners upstairs waiting to report in.”

I glanced at the door.

She inclined her head. “Do you think staring at the door will make him return faster?”

“No.” In fact, he’d warned me he might not be back until the morning.

“Then why do it?”

“Because emotions don’t always follow logic.”

“Ah.”

“And I’m going crazy.”

“That I understand. Perhaps you need something to keep your mind occupied.”

“The reports—”

“Not enough. What about all that plant information you and Mr. Valek collected?”

“I’m waiting for my father and brother.”

She remained quiet.

I sighed in defeat. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t take a look at it now. Thanks, Hilly.”

Flashing me a smile, she returned to the kitchen as I headed to Fisk’s office. The two young boys sprang to their feet when they spotted me. Words tumbled from their mouths before I’d even settled behind the desk. I raised a hand, and they stopped.

Once I was ready, I asked them to repeat the information. Noting it down in Fisk’s log book, I thanked them for the good work. I assumed it was vital. Fisk had his members gather an eclectic range of data. And from this variety, he was able to make connections and discover golden nuggets of intel.

I collected the files Valek and I had taken from Bavol’s residence. Ignoring the dark brown stains of my own dried blood, I returned to the office. During my initial pass through, I organized them into three categories—useful, useless and beyond my expertise. I marked the third pile for my father.

Getting comfortable, I read through the notes in the useful stack. Bavol had considered the grafting techniques that Leif said Owen’s unknown Master Gardener used to increase the production of Theobroma. He had sketches of how to cut into the tree’s bark and insert a limb from an older tree and then bind them together. The older limb would produce pods quicker than the new host tree, cutting down on the two-year wait for the tree to mature.

I wondered if Bavol had tried it. There hadn’t been any plants in his home or office. Would he have used another location? Maybe in the Council Hall? No. Not enough light. Perhaps the Magician’s Keep? The gardeners who worked for the Keep had an impressive amount of knowledge.

Another hour passed as I continued reading, marking some pages for my father to explain. But one sketch drove me to my feet. I ran to our rooms and hunted through my travel pack, hoping that it was still there after all the insanity of being captured by Bruns.

It was. Thank fate!

Dashing back to Fisk’s office, I compared Onora’s drawing from the Commander’s castle to the sketch in Bavol’s file. They matched. I sank into the chair, mulling over the significance. Onora had drawn the saplings that Owen had carried all the way from Sitia. He called them Harman trees, and they had to be important with a capital I. Now Bavol also had a picture of them, but there wasn’t an explanation to go with it.

I growled in frustration. So close! However, this could be a clue that Owen’s Master Gardener might have worked with Bavol at one point. And they needed a place to work close by. Maybe even one of those glass hothouses. I returned to my reading, hoping for another clue.

“What are you scowling at?” I jumped at the sound of Fisk’s voice. He stood in the doorway.

“Bavol’s notes. Did you have a productive afternoon?”

His light brown eyes shone. “I finally found Lovely Adara the perfect dress for her wedding.”

“You’re seriously excited about that? At a time like this?”

“Yes. She is extremely picky, and her father promised me double payment if I found her one within the week.” He tapped his bulging pocket and coins rattled. “He hated to pay, but once again I proved I can find anything in the Citadel.”

I grinned at him.

Fisk held his hands up. “Oh, no, what did I say?”

“Have you found a structure made of glass in the Citadel? Or maybe a building with lots of windows? Perhaps with greenery growing inside it?”

“No, but...” Fisk moved to his desk and dug through the drawers. “Tweet mentioned a green glass roof, but I thought I’d translated his report wrong.”

“I’m amazed you understand him at all.” Tweet’s tongue had been cut out at a very young age, so he communicated with a variety of hoots and whistles. Hence the nickname.

“We both grew up on the streets,” Fisk said, as if that explained everything. He withdrew a notebook and flipped through the pages. “Ah, here it is. Tweet tried to look inside, but a man spotted him and chased him off with threats of harm if he returned. I figured he’d found a skylight and was peering down into someone’s bedroom. People don’t like it when you spy into their private rooms.” His tone made it clear that the very concept amazed him.

I suppressed a smile. “Where was this glass roof?”

“Not far from here. I can have someone take another look.”

“I need to go and see it for myself,” I said.

“But Valek—”

“—said I can get some fresh air. Besides, once he kills The Mosquito, the others will be too frightened to come after me. Plus it’s close, and you’ll be with me. Right?”

“I don’t know.”

I tried another tactic. “We can bring along a couple bodyguards, if that makes you feel better.”

“Bodyguards? You do realize most of my people are underage.”

I stared at him.

He fidgeted under my scrutiny. “Well, I do have a few members who are skilled fighters.”

“Please, Fisk. I’m going crazy in here. Valek was okay with me leaving as long as we stay nearby.”

“If anything happens—”

“It won’t.”

“—Valek’s going to kill me.”

“I’ll kill you if I have to stay inside one more moment.”

“Sorry, but Valek scares me more.”

“That’s ’cause you’ve never seen me cranky.” I stood.

“All right, but we’ll need disguises. And if Valek asks, you forced me at knife point.”

“Chicken.”

“Damn right.”

* * *

Our disguises turned out to be a family. Fisk played the father, I took the role of mother and the bodyguards, Lyle and Natalie, were dressed as our children. The irony was not lost on me. With blond curls and chubby cheeks, Lyle was so adorable, I had to resist picking him up and hugging him.

As Fisk and I strolled hand in hand, I asked, “Are they even armed?”

“To the teeth.”

“Must take after my side of the family.”

Fisk chuckled. “They’ve been bugging Valek for lessons, and he’s been kind enough to work with them when he has time.” He squeezed my hand. “He’s going to make a wonderful father.”

I squeezed back in agreement. We walked for a while in silence. I enjoyed the fresh air and the afternoon sunshine warming my black hair. One of the guild members had pinned it into a sedate bun and used makeup to age my face. My future had stared back at me in the mirror.

Fisk navigated the maze of streets and buildings that comprised the northwest quadrant of the Citadel. Constructed from a variety of building materials, the once-organized grid of residences was now a labyrinth of homes, apartments and shacks.

“Tweet said he’d meet us near there,” Fisk said. “It’s a bit tricky to find.”

“Good. Is anyone following us?”

“No one has taken the least bit of interest in us.”

I considered the speed of his reply. “You have more people shadowing us, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“How many?” Or rather, just how scared of Valek was he?

“Two scouts and two sweepers.”

“Sweepers?”

“They follow behind and ensure no one is trailing after us.”

“Ah.”

When we drew closer to our destination, Tweet appeared as if from nowhere. He took my other hand and smiled shyly. We strolled another couple blocks in silence.

“Go with Tweet,” Fisk said. “He’ll show you and Lyle where the glass roof is, and the rest of us will meet you on the flip side.”

“All right.”

Fisk released my hand, and I allowed Tweet to lead me. Lyle, the chubby-cheeked blond, trotted at my heels like a lost puppy. We cut through a narrow alley, climbed a rickety series of steps and cat-walked between buildings until we reached a roof. Tweet stopped and pointed to an adjoining roof that was made of glass. Sunlight reflected off the surface, so I was unable to see inside.

Tweet put a finger to his lips and mimed tiptoeing. Understanding the need to be quiet, I crept toward the glass roof. My pulse raced as I drew closer and spotted green shapes. But when I reached the edge, disappointment deflated my excitement.

Algae coated the inside of the glass. All the plants Bavol had been interested in would need sunlight to grow. I peered through a couple clear spots, but dead plants and shriveled leaves occupied most of the room. It appeared nothing but mold and fungus grew inside.

I returned to Tweet, who shrugged as if to say it was worth a shot.

Not about to give up, I crouched down and described the glass hothouse to Tweet. “In order to build it, they would have needed large sheets of glass. Maybe you or one of your friends saw a glassmaker delivering them?”

He met my gaze and nodded. Lyle and I followed him off the roof and joined Fisk. I shook my head at his questioning expression.

“Back to HQ?” he asked.

Tweet piped up with a series of hoots.

Fisk groaned. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“What did he say?” I asked.

“There’s a glassmaker with a factory in the fourth ring of the Citadel who has been specializing in sheet glass for windows.”

“Great. Let’s go talk to him,” I said.

“I don’t know,” Fisk hedged. “The bounty hunters have been watching the market. And you said Valek only approved a short trip.”

“We’ll avoid the market. Besides, with these snazzy disguises, no one will suspect a thing.”

“You’re killing me, and not with your humor,” Fisk muttered. But he led the way, once again taking up his fatherly role.

We stayed away from the popular routes and avoided the deserted streets. Half the time I didn’t know where we were, but I trusted my guides. I smelled the sweet odor of burning white coal before I spotted the small factory tucked between two warehouses. The sign above the door read Keegan Glass.

A chime announced our arrival. Glass wine goblets, vases and pitchers decorated the display shelves. I gathered the “kids” close and told them not to touch anything.

A middle-aged man glided from a back room. He gave the kids a stern glare, as if daring them to misbehave, before asking if he could help us.

“I hope so,” Fisk said. “We are building onto our house, and my wife wanted to put in big windows in the new kitchen. She loves her plants and would really love just a wall of glass, but that’s impossible. What’s the biggest size you can make?”

Well done. Fisk was flawless.

“Actually, sir, I can make you a wall of glass, if you’d like.”

Fisk and I acted shocked. “But Crystal Glass said—”

“It’s impossible?”

Fisk nodded.

“It is. For them. Not for Keegan Glass. I’ve made an entire house out of glass.”

Yes! Keeping up the act, I furrowed my brow in suspicion. “Surely you jest.”

“It’s quite simple, actually.” Keegan then proceeded to explain how he made sheets of special glass that were used to build a structure. “Mind you, it wasn’t very big, but with enough support, it could have been bigger.”

“Was it part of a house?” I asked.

“No. It was the size of a large shed, but I can make yours to attach to an existing structure.”

Excited, I turned to Fisk. “With all that sunlight, I could grow all my own herbs!”

“You could,” the glassmaker assured me. “In fact, the guy who ordered it mentioned something about vines.”

Fisk pressed his lips together. “I’d like to see it first. Is it in the Citadel?”

“No. We delivered it to a farm south of the Citadel.”

Fisk glanced at me. “Doesn’t your cousin own a farm? She’s also a plant nut. Maybe...”

But Keegan didn’t fall for it. “Not likely. My client prefers that I don’t discuss the specifics of his order.”

Backing off, Fisk inquired about prices. Keegan wrote down the estimated measurements of the wall and returned to his back room. Fisk waited a few minutes before signaling the kids, who immediately started to bicker and then mock-fight. He gestured for me to intervene. I played the aggrieved mother trying to get her kids to stop. When they knocked over a couple vases, Keegan flew from the back room to admonish us.

I apologized and tried to clean up the mess while the kids continued their argument. As if on cue, the kids settled down, and we paid Keegan for the broken pieces. He was probably so glad to see us go that it would take him a while to realize that in addition to losing a sale, he’d lost an invoice as well. During the chaos, Fisk had slipped into Keegan’s back room. Keegan would have used the invoice for the other job to estimate the price of our project. At least, that was the hope.

“Did you get it?” I asked Fisk when we turned the corner.

“Yep.”

“And?”

He pulled a folded piece of parchment from his pocket and studied it. “No client name.”

I cursed.

“Language, Mother,” Lyle scolded.

“Be quiet, or I’ll pinch those adorable cheeks of yours.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered sourly.

“There is an address for delivery and a date,” Fisk said.

Better. “Where was it sent?”

“A farm right along the border of the Avibian Plains.”

Of course. The plains would be the perfect place to hide a glass hothouse. Only the Sandseed Clan and Zaltana Clan could travel across the plains without getting lost, and there were only a couple dozen Sandseeds left. But that meant if Bavol had been working with Owen’s Master Gardener, then the mystery person had to be a member of the Zaltana Clan. My clan. My elation died.

“When was it delivered?” I asked Fisk.

“A little over three years ago. Do you think it’s still there?”

I told him about my theory.

“Makes sense. No one would accidently discover it in the plains,” Fisk said. “Too bad the plains are so huge. It’d be impossible to find.”

“No, it wouldn’t. Bavol would build it only far enough in to hide it from the roads. No reason to go any deeper.”

“There’s still a lot of ground to cover.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem for a Sandseed horse like Kiki.”

“You can’t go unless you have permission from Valek.”

I laughed. “I’d like to see you stop me.”

His face creased as if he was about to get sick to his stomach. “Yelena—”

“Relax, Fisk. I’m kidding, and I’m sure Valek will approve of the trip, since I’d be leaving the Citadel and going where only a few can follow.”

“You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days. Do you know that?”

“You love all this intrigue and drama. You’re the Sitian Valek.”

Fisk laughed and started to shake his head, but his expression sobered. He glanced at me. “Do you think if we manage to save Sitia from the Commander, the Sitian Council would hire me as their Chief of Security?”

“They’d be idiots not to. But would you really want the job? You’d have bosses.”

“Ugh. I didn’t think of that. Hmm... I guess it would depend on the salary.”

We walked toward HQ in companionable silence. The lamplighters began their nightly routine, moving from one lamppost to the next like synchronized fireflies. The sun had disappeared behind the Citadel’s walls, which meant we’d been gone a few hours. Ideally we would return a few minutes before Valek, so I wouldn’t have to worry about him. However, I’d be thrilled if he was already there, waiting for us, even if it meant I’d be in trouble for this extended trip. Although promising to remain in HQ had its...perks.

When we entered the northwest quarter, we caught up to the lamplighters. Amazed by their dexterity, I watched as one woman climbed the post one-handed, holding a lit torch in the other.

Fisk grabbed my elbow and pulled me along at a quicker pace. Concerned, I hurried to keep up and noticed that there were far more lamplighters than this street required, and yet half the lanterns remained dark. I glanced around. We were surrounded by a ring of figures holding blazing torches, and I was unarmed. I’d left my bo staff back at HQ because it didn’t fit in with my disguise.

We stopped. I reached for my switchblade as nasty-looking curved daggers appeared in Lyle’s and Natalie’s hands. Even Fisk pulled a short sword from his tunic. My thoughts flashed to Valek as I slid my feet into a fighting stance. If I escaped, I’d never dismiss his concern for my safety as being overprotective again.

Undaunted by the display of weapons, the ring of fire tightened. My blood sizzled with fear. I shrank back as the lamplighters closed in on us. Even when I had magic, I had no control over fire. And, although I knew that the Fire Warper had been captured and imprisoned in a glass prison years ago, an irrational part of me expected to see him smirking at me through the flames.

Lyle, Natalie and Fisk formed a protective circle around me. They brandished weapons, but I’d bet all the coins in my pocket that they didn’t have any experience fighting against a flaming torch. Neither did I. I held my switchblade, even though its nine-inch blade was inadequate. Fisk had the best shot with his short sword.

One of the lamplighters gestured to a small gap opening in the circle. “Fisk and the kids can go. We don’t wish to harm them.”

“No,” Fisk said.

“Yes, go,” I said at the same time.

“No.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Go and bring back help.”

“The sweepers should already be on the way for help.” He glanced at me with a grim expression and whispered, “We need to delay as long as possible.”

“I’m not worth your life.”

Surprised, he said, “Sure you are. Without you, I wouldn’t have this life.”

“Fisk—”

“Time’s up,” the lamplighter said.

The gap closed, and the lamplighters rushed us. Although the kids showed an impressive amount of skill, the math just wasn’t in our favor. Shorter weapons and a dozen against four. My switchblade was knocked from my hand, and it didn’t take long for the four of us to be backed against the building.

A torch was thrust at my chest. “Hands up, or we’ll set your clothes on fire.”

I didn’t need any more incentive. I held my arms up as heat brushed my face. The bright light seared my vision, turning everything behind the fire black. Next to me, Fisk punched one of the lamplighters, but another ambusher swung his torch at Fisk’s temple. Knocked unconscious, Fisk collapsed to the ground with a heart-stopping thud. Lyle and Natalie dove through the lamplighters’ legs, and four of the attackers chased them. I hoped they escaped.

“Lace your hands behind your head,” a voice ordered me.

I did as instructed, not only hooking my fingers together, but through my bun as well.

“Turn around.”

I faced the wall. Someone grabbed my wrists. Then each one was pulled down behind my back and snapped into a cuff. These guys weren’t taking any chances. But they failed to check my hands. I held two fistfuls of bobby pins.

Dousing their torches, they ignored my questions as they led me through the Citadel without saying a word. I hated to admit it, but posing as lamplighters had been a smart move. No one so much as glanced at us. Six of them kept me boxed in the middle, hidden from casual view. I dropped one bobby pin after each turn, hoping that Valek could follow my trail and I didn’t run out before we reached our destination.

I wondered just how long they’d been waiting for me to leave the security of HQ. The ambush must have taken some planning. Did they set it in motion as soon as I was spotted this afternoon? How did they know I’d still be out at twilight?

Did it really matter at this point? No. All that mattered was that it had worked, and I was caught.

We entered the rings of warehouses, factories and businesses in the central area of the Citadel. Looping around to the alley behind a sprawling structure, the lamplighters led me inside. Before I stepped over the threshold, I dropped my last two bobby pins. Piles of crates littered the floor, and we wove around them before stopping at a set of stairs that disappeared down to the dark basement.

One of the group found a lantern and lit it. A skittery prickle coated my skin as we descended. My imagination conjured up visions of a dank cell and being tortured. I slowed. Hands grabbed my arms and pulled me along. At the bottom of the steps was a narrow hallway, and at the end was another door. My insides turned to goo and I braced for the horrors that waited for me within.

Dawn Study

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